Paula Roe - The Pregnancy Plot

With a sigh, he approached the conference room door and knocked, then walked straight on in.

Five

“I’m sorry...do you have another meeting, Matthew?”

Matt glanced up from his watch to meet Katrina’s cool gaze before leaning back in his seat and crossing his ankles beneath the conference table. “No.”

Suddenly Matt and his ex-wife were the sole focus of attention in the room as the department heads’ soft chatter came to a halt. Matthew remained impassive in the silence. Sure, for most of the staff his history with Katrina was a nonissue, but there were a few who gleefully anticipated a domestic incident every time they assembled to discuss his company’s staffing needs, which Saint Cat’s played a large part in fulfilling.

They obviously didn’t know her. Or him. Their divorce had been polite, dispassionate and completely professional—just like their marriage.

He cocked one eyebrow up, inviting her to press the issue. She blinked a slow and icy dismissal before continuing with the agenda.

He furtively eyed his watch again. Half past one. Jeez, he hated these meetings. Every year admin rehashed the same concerns about working with GEM—low staff numbers, budgetary constraints, rostering conflicts—before finally signing on the dotted line. So as Katrina’s people squabbled over the same issues, he stared out the window and let his thoughts drift back to AJ.

Five days had passed. Five days of meetings, flights and a hundred other professional commitments that had succeeded in keeping his mind firmly on work. Not on a certain redhead who’d invaded his downtime and strengthened his interest despite her unceremonious rejection.

He shifted in his chair and crossed his arms, his gaze going to the stunning view of Sydney Harbour out the window of the twentieth-floor conference room.

Man, he’d been right, though. AJ had changed. She’d gone from a spontaneous free spirit to...what? She’d never talked about her dreams, her wants. Never even mentioned family. Until the wedding he’d had no idea she had a sister. Yet they’d been together six months. Surely they’d talked, right?

What he knew about her could fit on the head of a pin. Prior to working at the local café near his Central Coast house, she’d traveled up and down Australia from northern Queensland to Victoria, doing seasonal fruit picking, waitressing and cleaning. Her nomadic existence fascinated him, given all his plans and constant schedules.

He remembered calling her on his last shift and, no matter what the time, she’d be on his doorstep when he got home. They’d end up in bed, then eat, make love some more, and in the morning she’d be gone. And then there was the way he’d handled their breakup, which was, he admitted, sudden and with little finesse.

No wonder she shut you down.

When the meeting broke up ten minutes later, Matt sighed in relief and headed straight out the door, checking his phone messages as he went. Delete. Delete. Answer. Ignore.

He stopped abruptly, staring at the screen.

AJ was at GEM. He checked the time of his office manager’s text, then his watch. She’d been waiting in his office for two hours.

“Now that’s interesting,” he murmured.

A burst of anticipation quickened his blood, and he frowned. Forget it. You took a cold shower, spent the rest of the day in a black mood then moved on.

Apparently not.

* * *

He’d barely got a handle on his curiosity when he pushed through his office door at GEM’s Mascot headquarters half an hour later.

He paused, noting her small start before she swiveled in her seat and looked up at him with wide blue eyes. Tellingly, she’d chosen the rigid-backed visitor’s chair next to his desk instead of the comfy sofa flanking the far wall.

“Hi, Matt.”

He let silence do the talking as he cataloged her appearance, from the worn blue denims, plain white V-neck T-shirt and oversized worn navy jacket to that red hair tightly contained in a low knot.

Man, that was beginning to piss him off.

“What brings you to Sydney?” he finally asked.

“You.” She paused, a small frown marring her forehead. “Can you sit? I need to talk to you.”

He shrugged and walked over to his desk, lowering himself slowly into the plush leather seat.

Was she here for a do-over?

Pride nipped at his heels, making him frown. He had half a mind to ask her to leave, but at the last moment decided against it. No harm in letting her talk, right? He could always say no.

He remained expressionless as he eyeballed her. She returned his stare.

Damn it, he wanted to say no.

Yeah, who’re you kidding? If she was here to have another go of it, he’d make her stew a little. Then they’d do it his way.

His, imagination went into overdrive as he considered the endless possibilities. He’d take down that ridiculous hairdo for a start. And have her wear something...red. Yeah. A strapless body-hugging red dress that emphasized her delicate collarbone, with those crazy curls falling over her shoulders. And beneath the dress—

“Matt?”

“Yeah?” Her sharp tone snapped his attention back to the present. When he finally looked at her—really looked—her serious expression set off all kinds of alarms. “What’s going on?”

“I need your help with something.”

AJ chose her words carefully, instinctively moving to cross her arms before she realized what she was doing. She linked her fingers together in her lap instead.

No, that wasn’t right, either. So she recrossed her legs and slid her elbows onto the chair arms, her fingers lightly gripping the ends. Much better.

Her brief composure dissolved under the weight of Matthew’s loaded question. “My help?”

“Yes. Well, it’s more like a favor. Well, not a favor, which sounds a little trivial, but more like—”

“Take a breath.” His smooth, cultured voice flowed over her, bringing the nervousness down a notch. “You flew down to Sydney to ask me for a favor?”

“Yes.”

“What’s wrong with the phone?”

“This isn’t a phone kind of favor.”

His mouth suddenly tweaked. “I think I know what this is about.”

She blinked. “You do?”

“Yeah. But you used to come right out and say it, AJ. Hesitancy wasn’t one of your attributes.”

What? She shook her head with a frown. “I’m not entirely—”

“—convinced we should do it?” He leaned forward, planting his elbows on the desk and clasping his hands, an expectant gleam in his eyes. “Wouldn’t denial be worse?”

AJ opened her mouth but nothing came out. This was so not going the way she’d planned. Instead of calmly presenting her situation, then laying out the solution in a businesslike manner, she’d let him stall her with one quirk of his sensual lips. Not to mention the heated stare, which melted her senses and sent her body into an anticipatory tingle.

It was déjà vu, except now they were in his office instead of the Palazzo Versace’s private cabana. And just like before, that evil little voice echoed: you have him ready to go—you don’t actually have to tell him.

Yet through the growing tangle of desire another more powerful emotion grabbed hold. Honesty. It’s what had stopped her the first time. It’s what would always stop her.

“Matthew. I...uh....” She hesitated, casting her eyes over his desk. There was a small mountain of files, a laptop, phone, coffee cup, scattered pens and paper. No family photos, no personal mementoes. The wall behind him held his various diplomas, a crazy-looking yearly schedule, medical diagrams and charts; it was the office of someone who’d had a life plan since he was ten years old. He was Matthew Cooper, work-driven, goal-oriented. He had been—and always would be—a career guy. Ten years later that was still blindingly obvious.